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Dutch Resistance
The Dutch resistance to the Nazi occupation of the Netherlands during World War II existed out of various loosely affiliated groups. Although early stages of the resistance can be mainly characterized as non-violent, the event of the February strike and its cause, the random police harassment and deportation of over 400 Jews, greatly stimulated resistance. Eventually, armed resistance would emerge, organized by various factions, ranging from remaining Dutch soldiers to Dutch Communist Party, and to smaller and less-organized factions such as local churches and even mobs. These armed groups often performed sabotage and assassination missions against high ranking Nazi personnel and collaborators which was often met by random executions by the Germans. Others went on a dangerous voyage to the UK where they met up with the Dutch government-in-exile and join the British Army. Their efforts of resistance range from offering shelters to refugees to assassinating Dutch collaborators and German spies, as well as limited guerrilla movements in some areas and information collecting. When the allies reached the Netherlands after Normandy, many active resistance groups would join force with the allies and help overthrow the local Nazi forces. Battle vs. Home Army (by Battlefan237) Dutch Resistance: Home Army: The town was quiet as usual, as six Dutch soldiers made their way across the empty street. A train accident had rescued them from being sent to a concentration camp, allowing them to escape their cell and retrieve their weapons stored in the train's cargo section. Since their captors apparently had already bit the dust in the accident, they decided to venture into the town near the track,hoping to seek temporary shelter. Initially, they kept their nerves on for they were not quite sure which part of Europe they were in, however, as they explored the town further and found no traces of Nazi, they let their guards. Soon they settled themselves inside an empty restaurant, setting up their stolen radio in an attempt to contact the outside world. With five of his friends busy coping with the radio, one Dutch soldier was left with the boring task of keeping guard. Standing at the door, the man held his rifle in a leisure manner and yawned. Before they entered this place they'd already scanned this seemingly innocent street, and found nothing, or no one, suspicious. "Dit is zinloos.(This is pointless)." He whispered to himself, and reached inside his pocket for his lighter. However, right before he could pull it out, a sense of dread engulfed his mind as a bullet tore through his hand.Yelling in pain, he stumbled backwards, only to have more bullets pierce through his chest, slamming him dead on the vestibule's floor . Hearing their friend screaming, the remaining six resistance soldiers immediately took action. Two of them charged out of the door, taking cover behind a pile of abandoned table,forbidding Polish guerrilla fighters hiding in the abandoned building across the street from shooting them down. Returning fire with their Stens, it didn't take long for them to find out that their foreign aids were no-match for the robust products from Poland's underground factory. Suppressing the Dutch soldiers with the Błyskawica's demonic rate of fire, the Polish soldiers charged out. However, the Dutch had yet another trick to save their day, as their captain popped up the Lewis gun at the restaurant's window just in time to defend the two Sten-users, pounding down two Polish guerrilla fighters before the third retreated back into the building . What followed up, was a battle of rifles, with both factions stuck inside their shelter, deeming it rather imprudent to recklessly push through the street between them, for the Polish captain had witnessed the deadliness of the Lewis Gun, while the Dutch captain did not want any more troubles with Polish underground firearm factory's Aces. Taking advantage of the restaurant's third floor, the Dutch soldiers spared no mercy firing their Mannlichers at the Polish soldiers steadying their rifles on the rooftop below. However, being amateur rifle-handlers , these men weren't able to land any solid shots. Instead, their attack motivated the Polish guerrillas to retaliate with their own rifles. Almost a minute was wasted before both sides ran out of their bullets simultaneously.Busy reloading their rifles, the Polish men weren't fast enough to catch up with their Dutch counterparts, whose en-bloc clips bought them some precious time. Hardly had the leading Polish rifleman steadied his reloaded firearm when several bullets rained down from above came into contact. With one bullet blowing up his shoulder and the other digging into his neck, the man slumped over the rooftop and bit the dust . Several feet behind the collapsed man stationed his younger brother.A chaotic mash of anger and pain instantly built up in his heart, as he watched the man he respected crumbled down miserably. Memories from the past flashed back in his mind, as he recalled the series of death that unfolded in front of him ever since the iron horde of war tore apart his homeland.He remembered their father being violently pushed into the pit by a Red Army captain in Katyn, and their Jewish neighbor being beaten to death with rifles by two Waffen-SS. Ever since those moments, his faith in goodness had been mangled apart, and what left behind was this blind rage of revenge.Had it not been his brother, who guided him and controlled him in the early days of guerrilla fighting, he would have been killed by Nazis in Gdańsk. Now that the man that held him back was claimed by the war, there was no more reserves. Roaring in an inhumane fury he charged forward, swinging his sub-machine gun wildly and spraying it at the rooftop above, only to attract the concentrated firepower from virtually every enemy out there. In sheer seconds the poor teenager crumbled down.With his body riddled with bullet wounds, he let out a final roar of defiance, before the pain forced him to hurl himself over the edge, resulting in him crushing onto the street below . With the attackers above taken care of, the Dutch captain signaled the charge forward. Confidently they marched through the street, feeling sure that they could come on top, as judging from the fact that no more attackers appear to replace their dead friends, indicating their superiority in number.However, as the golden rule of guerrilla warfare went :" Larger number doesn't guarantee victory." Recklessly bursting into the door with their Stens ready, the Dutch fighters were given a warm welcome the Polish captain's last teammate, whose Browning wz. 1928 had been resting in his arms for way too long, and in dire need for such a chance to unleash his hidden beauty. The Dutch, despite having Stens in their hands, were far from ready for this kind of ambush, for their limited experience in Eindhoven was obviously not enough to brace themselves for such a machine-gun greeting from their left wing.Two of them perished almost instantly, while the third one made an attempt to fire back, only to receive an extended string of pummels from the Browning copy . As his weapon ran out of ammo,the Polish fighter wasn't fast enough to draw out his pistol when the forth enemy, the Dutch captain, calmly strode into the room. Being an ex-soldier that had been through the bloodbath of Fall Gelb and Rotterdam, he was not yet wise enough to pick out a guerrilla-style ambush, but was indeed sharp enough to pull back his last men and patient enough to wait. "Kurwa !" The Polish soldier ended his life with a curse, as the Dutch captain, who had already readied his pistol for attack before making his cool entrance, land on shot on his chest . Right before the duo of Dutch Resistance could explore forward, the Polish Captain, who had been hiding behind the desk as a last-resort, launched himself out with his Radom. Hardly had the Dutch captain reacted when a bullet flashed past his shoulder, narrowly missing his neck. Quickly ducking behind the chair he was unable to restrain his inexperienced partner from dashing forward and making attempts to wrestle the pistol out of the Polish captain's hand.Although planning to catch his opponent by surprise, the Dutch fighter was instead, offered with a huge surprise, as the Polish captain pulled out the bayonet he detached from his rifle and slashed it across his neck . Now one on one, both men emptied their pistols,unable to land a single shot on each other due to their respective shelters.With the pistol rendered useless, the Dutch captain charged forward with his empty rifle, slamming it across the Polish captain's arm, knocking the bayonet out of his disposal. However, hardly had the Dutch captain made a second strike when the Polish captain turned over the table on his left, building up a temporary obstacle, blocking the captain's way.Quickly lifting the flower pot on the counter behind as the Dutch opponent made his way around the table, the Polish gladiator spared no hesitation smacking it across his opponent's head. With the flower pot's fractures blurring his sight, the last thing the Dutch captain saw before the shinny blade of the Polish man's bayonet,before the piercing pain and the gush of blood finally putting him to rest . Winner: Polish Home Army Expert's opinion With both warrior groups having their own advantages in different weapon categories, it's the PHA's experience and expertise in this kind of unconventional warfare that ultimately nails the victory for them. To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here. 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